


as the tide returning

by pipistrelle



Series: there is a season [11]
Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Post Melting Stones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 06:22:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2014404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipistrelle/pseuds/pipistrelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lark was waiting when the ships from Starns limped into Summersea harbor. (Post Melting Stones.)</p>
<p>Written for Tamora Pierce Femslash Week 2014!</p>
            </blockquote>





	as the tide returning

**Author's Note:**

> I have been trying and failing to figure out how far Starns actually is from Emelan. I think it is probably canonically farther than I first assumed? So maybe treat this as an Emelan AU in which everything is exactly the same except Starns is about three days' sail from Summersea instead of a week or more.
> 
> Thanks to sitonyourhands for beta-ing, especially given my increasingly frantic approach to Femslash Week. She is amazing, and any awkward phrasing in this fic was probably left in by me against her advice.

Lark was waiting on the docks when the ships from  Starns limped into  Summersea harbor, soot-blackened and riding low with their holds full of refugees. There were other people waiting, too -- it seemed like half of Winding Circle was there, along with healer-mages from the city and squads of the Duke's guards -- but  Rosethorn, leaning on the wooden rail with people pressing in on every side, saw only Lark. 

She had no sooner touched solid ground than Lark's arms were around her. Rosethorn closed her eyes and buried her face in Lark's shoulder, losing herself in the touch of the familiar body she knew nearly as well as her own. Chaos seethed around them, but Rosethorn was hardly aware of anything except Lark's low voice in her ear. "Rosie, thank all the gods -- are you all right?"

Rosethorn coughed, cleared her throat, and croaked, "I have to go back."

" _Back_?  To the  _ volcano_?" Lark pulled away, but wrapped her hands around Rosethorn's wrists as though to keep her from darting back aboard one of the ships. She needn't have worried; it was doubtful Rosethorn would get far on her own even if she tried. She was pale and drawn under the smudges of soot on her face. Her eyes were red and her voice was rough from smoke, and she leaned forward against Lark without even seeming to realize it, too exhausted to support her own weight.  "Absolutely not," said Lark. "By the Green Man's mercy, I am never letting you out of my sight again. Why would you --"

"Evvy,"  Rosethorn croaked. Seeing the look  of sick terror that flashed across Lark's face, she hastily added, "She's alive. She saved us, that stubborn, disobedient --" Talking was too much, and  Rosethorn pulled one arm free of Lark's iron grip to cover a fit of coughing. "It's the smoke," she said, when her breathing had eased. "We sailed through it on the way --"

Lark shook her head, fear making her throat close up. Finally she managed, " She's alive?"

"Evumeimei is well and provided for," boomed a voice from the cobblestones. Lark looked down to see  Luvo trundling up from the ship on his stubby fluorite legs, unconcerned by the refugees who tripped or hopped over him, cursing him to get out of their way. "She and her friends will have the help and protection of the island you call  Starns for as long as they need. I have impressed upon  Starns how urgent it is that  Evumeimei and her friends remain safe. It was difficult for an island to understand the need to take such trouble over a temporary meat-creature, but she will do it because I asked." He bumped his head against Lark's leg, a reassuring tap that was hardly even strong enough to bruise. "I am glad to see you again, Lark."

"Thank you,  Luvo. I'm glad to see you, too -- and to see you home." Lark smiled down at the bear, a bright flash that disappeared in worry as she focused again on  Rosethorn. "And even though  Evvy's safe and being looked after, you won't rest for even an hour --? No, of course you won't. Well, it won't be easy to convince any of these captains to turn back around and sail towards the volcano. Let me talk to some of them." She led  Rosethorn over to a stack of crates that had probably been destined to be loaded onto some merchant ship, but had been abandoned in the sudden arrival of the refugees. She helped  Rosethorn to sit, then leaned down and pressed a brief, fierce kiss to her lips before disappearing into the crowd. 

Rosethorn lifted a hand absently to trace where Lark's lips had touched. She tasted salt; whether it was just the sea-breeze, or whether one of them had been crying, she wasn't entirely sure. 

She wasn't sure either of how much time passed as she sat on the crates, watching hordes of people stream by without registering any of their faces. She had overdone it with her magic on the crossing from  Starns. The eruption had opened vents on the seafloor for miles around, cracks that sent boiled seawater roiling to the surface and belched out steam and foul smoke. Shielding the wooden boards of the ships from that violent heat, and holding the hemp fibers of ropes and sails together against the tearing winds, had spread her too thin. At the time she had hardly noticed, but now her vision was beginning to gray out at the edges and the solid world around her sloshed and heaved as though she were still at sea.

She hadn't been this drained in a long time. In the years since the blue pox, she had had to learn to be more careful with the reserves of her weakened body -- and she couldn't remember the last time she'd tried to do any major working without Briar breathing down her neck, harping at her whenever he thought she might be putting herself under too much strain. The tyranny of the young. She could imagine very well what he'd say now, to see her so run down. Her boy…

"Rosie," Lark called, from far away. Cool, soft hands stroked her neck, her face, and she realized she was sitting hunched over with her head in her hands. She tried to straighten her spine, but moving made her stomach heave, and she had to close her eyes to shut out the spinning world in order to keep from being sick.

A hand that was too large and rough to be Lark's touched the pulse point on the side of her neck. Warmth like sunlight spread through her veins, waking her up, bringing her back from the edge of oblivion. Slowly she straightened up, blinking at the portly, kindly-faced man in Water blue who knelt in front of her. He smiled and stood, turning to speak softly to Lark before leaving to tend to others. 

He would have no shortage of work, Rosethorn knew. After the miserable journey these people had endured, crammed together with little room and less to eat, there would be many who needed a healer's help.

Rosethorn should have been helping, too. She watched the Water dedicate go, thinking that she should follow him, but before she could act on the thought Lark was there, pressing a hot stuffed roll into one hand and a flask into the other. "Here, love. You must eat something. Captain  Gemel has agreed to take you and  Luvo back on the  Stalwart  when the tide changes, which means you must be on your feet as soon as you can. I'd come with you, but I left Comas to look after  Glaki , and she'll wear him down into nervous exhaustion if I'm not back by dark." She paused, worrying at her fingernails as  Rosethorn ate and sipped from the flask, finding it full of strong, hot tea. "In fact," Lark said, "I'm of half a mind to go with you anyway.  Frostpine can watch  Glaki for a few days --"

"No,"  Rosethorn croaked, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead, not caring about the streaks of soot it left. She felt stronger for the food, and as she took another sip of tea, she felt the dizziness receding. "Glaki needs you. I'll be all right."

Lark looked unconvinced. "Please promise me you'll rest on the crossing. You'll need your strength."

Rosethorn looked up and was surprised to see tears on Lark's face. She reached out a hand, and Lark clasped it in both of hers, then leaned down to kiss her again.

Finally  Rosethorn was forced to pull away for a breath. "I promise," she murmured, resting her head on Lark's shoulder. It felt so nice to have Lark's arms around her -- so right, so warm and safe. Why had she ever left? Not anymore, she vowed to herself. She would fetch  Evvy and go back to Winding Circle, and not set foot outside  Summersea again. Let the mad, cruel world tear itself to pieces --  Rosethorn was going to stay in her home, with her garden and her Lark. Where she belonged.

A cold, heavy weight pressed against  Rosethorn's leg.  Luvo had come to lean on her, as close as he could get to joining the women's embrace. "Do not fear, Lark," he said gently. "The danger from the children of the earth's core is passed. I will not permit  Rosethorn to come to harm."

"I'd like to see you permit me anything," Rosethorn grumbled. Lark let out a choked sound halfway between a laugh and a sob, squeezed her tighter for a moment, then let her go and knelt on the cobblestones to rest a hand on the bear's back.

"Thank you,  Luvo," she said, her voice clogged. "You have been a blessing to all of us -- not just to  Evvy. One day I must find a way to repay you."

"Piffle,"  Luvo rumbled in his mountain's voice.  Rosethorn snorted; Lark couldn't help but smile. "It is a great joy, to know you meat-creatures, and to be a part of your temporary lives. It is quite unlike anything I have ever known, and that is payment enough."

"Dedicate  Rosethorn!" A young man in novice white was struggling through the crowd to reach them, dodging children and animals. The sheer amount of sweat and soot that streaked his robes showed that he'd come some distance through the press of refugees. He stumbled to a stop, panting, and spared a wide-eyed glance for  Luvo before he focused on the women. "Dedicate  Rosethorn, Honored  Moonstream is requesting to speak to you at once --"

"Honored  Moonstream will have to wait." With Lark's help,  Rosethorn got to her feet, wincing at the ache in every muscle. "She can get anything she needs to know now from Dedicate  Myrrhtide and the other --" she had been about to say something rude, but caught Lark's eye and changed it to "--seers. I'll be back in a few days to give her the rest."

The novice gaped. "A few days? But Honored --"

"Don't worry, I'll talk to her." Lark laid a comforting hand on the novice's shoulder. " Estin, isn't it?" The boy nodded. "I'm afraid Dedicate  Rosethorn must go back to  Starns."

The novice stared at her, his eyes wide, and  Rosethorn realized he was young -- only a year or two older than  Evvy. "Back? To the  _ volcano _ ?"

"Yes." Lark looked at him kindly, seeing his consternation. "Don't worry -- you've fulfilled your errand. Honored  Moonstream will understand."

Estin looked lost. "Will she? I don't."

"She will, after I explain it to her." Lark patted the boy's shoulder reassuringly. "Just give me a moment, and you can take me to her now."

"I -- all right,"  Estin said helplessly, but Lark hadn't waited to hear his answer. She turned back to  Rosethorn, carefully brushing her hands over the shorter woman's shoulders. Light sparked through the weave of  Rosethorn's habit as the soot and grime fell away and wrinkles smoothed themselves out.

Lark cupped  Rosethorn's cheek in one hand.  Rosethorn waited for her to say something, but she only moved her thumb a little, brushing away a smudge of soot. There was a strange expression on Lark's face -- almost hungry, almost despairing, but not quite either.  Rosethorn had seen it before, on the faces of the people who had crowded the decks of the ships leaving  Starns. It was the look of someone watching their only home fade into the distance, trying to memorize every detail because there was no way of knowing if this glimpse would be the last.

Rosethorn said nothing, just stood quietly and waited until Lark had looked her fill. Finally Lark kissed her once more, softly, in farewell, and took a step back. "I'll see you in a few days," she said. Her voice was as firm as she could make it, but there was a tremble of uncertainty underneath the words.

Rosethorn's heart ached. Lark was afraid -- and was probably wise to be afraid, since every journey Rosethorn took seemed to invite fresh disaster. But Rosethorn felt no fear. She believed in her own homecoming the way she believed in the sunrise. Nothing would prevent her, not even another volcano. To be with Lark again, she would fight her way back through ten volcanoes if she had to. 

"In a few days," she agreed. "You'll see me and Evvy both -- if I don't keelhaul her on the way back."

Lark smiled, her eyes bright with tears, and let the novice lead her off into the crowd. 

Rosethorn stared after her until she was distracted by  Luvo's cold, pointed snout nudging her leg. "Pardon me,  Rosethorn. What is 'keelhaul'?" 

Rosethorn sighed. "I'll show you when we find that girl of mine."


End file.
